Giving up
by AirborneGirl
Summary: A sudden insight gives Mac another view of her actions. It's time for a change. Set right after Measure of men. Rated T for mild swearing.


**Giving up**

**AN**: Sometimes it's the not-so-very-nice review that gets you thinking. So thanks in an absolutely non-sarcastic way to "Virago500" for putting some ideas in my head. This one's for you.

**Spoilers**: Everything up to and including "Measure of men."

**Disclaimer**: Unless my parents adopted me and I'm really the biological child of DBP and therefore heir to his production realm, they're not mine. Guess I'll have to do a DNA test. Oh well…

**To alix33**: To answer your review of my other disclaimer: I swear, he's so hard to find, especially when you're not looking. I mean, then I'd have to return him. And maybe he wants to stay with me too...Oh well...

_On with it…_

Her homecoming was what it always was lately. Lonely. In fact, that's the way it had always felt for her. Simply lonely. No matter who she'd been sharing her apartment and/or her life with. And she was solely responsible for it too.

Depressed, and in need of something distracting her from her tumbling thoughts, she flipped through the patch of mail that had gathered during her TAD assignment, finding nothing but bills and junk, which she threw away without looking.

One of the colorful advertisements caught her attention though.

Normally it was the kind she never even saw, simply because it didn't apply to her. It was one of those stupid pieces that suggested its female readers that they could lose up to 20 pounds in two weeks just by taking two little capsules before every meal. She never believed in them and didn't need them either. Thanks to hard physical training she was in the shape of her life, even if she was over the youth hill.

No, it were simply some words written as a header. They had nothing to do with her, but they mocked her, seemed to laugh at her in their obnoxious big red print.

"_Losing weight without having to give up anything?"_

Losing. Giving up.

Damn, the girl in the picture even resembled a much hated video princess, complete with fake white smile. Probably all air-brushed, she thought childishly. With more force than needed, she shoved the offensive piece of paper to the bottom of the pile.

Losing. Giving up.

Damn it! Now she knew she couldn't get it out of her system. Not tonight. Not any night. Sighing, pouring herself some water, she sat down on her normally comfortable couch, too edgy to get full benefit from it.

Losing. Giving up.

She had lost him. She had asked him what he was willing to give up for her, turned around before he could think about his reply and had subsequently lost him forever. By her own fault.

What was it about him that he came to her when she wasn't in any way prepared to deal with him? And, more important: what was it with her that made her ask these questions at the most inconvenient times and not even wait until he was ready to answer?

Well, she actually new the answer to the last part: she didn't want to hear it.

She didn't want to hear him tell her that she wasn't important enough to give up his girlfriend for. Or his career. His precious Tomcats. That indeed, she was on the very bottom of his wish-list, if she was even on the first page. Or any page for that matter. She would give up anything to be with him, but he?

Wait. Hold on. A sudden realization hit her with such force it almost made her choke in her water.

Would she?

Would she give up everything she had worked her whole life for to get, just so she could be with him? Looking honestly inside herself, she knew she probably wouldn't. And why should she? Damn it, her Marine career, rocky as it was, had never been just a back-up plan until she found her knight in shining armor. She was a modern woman for God's sake, she had a right to work and a right to defend her country. That code had saved her life, why would she give it up? How could she give it up?

But this clear insight was immediately and irreversibly followed by another one:

If she couldn't force herself to give it all up…how could she force him to do the same?

Suddenly sobbing, she collapsed on the couch, burying her head in the soft pillows. She was horrible. A horrible person. Selfish to no end. Where did she come off thinking she was entitled to have it all? Where was her piece of the sacrifice?

Her tears dried out after a long overdue cry, her resolve came back.

She was tired of this dance. It needed to be resolved. But she still wanted it all. And moreover, she wanted him to have it all too. He deserved it, possibly, no, definitely even more than she did. It was time she showed him as much. If he even wanted her to. Quickly spurting into action, she was ready for the battle of her life.

000000000000000

The drive up to his apartment had never seemed this long, but at least it gave her some time to decide what exactly she was going to say to him. Finally, when she parked outside his building, she knew that an apology was in order. And after that…well, that was up to him as much as it was up to her. She just hoped he would meet her halfway, though she was more than willing to go the distance.

Luckily, his lights were still on, so she wasn't too late to disturb him. Her hands were trembling again when she summoned up the courage to ring his doorbell.

Moments later, the door was yanked open with enough force to rattle the hinges. He towered over her, his tall frame blocking her entrance, all but deprived of his normal relaxed stance that always instantly made her feel safe and welcome. Now, he looked tense, his eyes narrowing while he took her in like he'd never seen her before and wasn't willing to like her one bit. She felt herself shrink and swallowed hard to keep some resemblance of dignity.

"Can I come in?" Thank God her voice only quivered a little.

He nodded, suddenly deflated. He made a non-committed gesture that she interpreted as an invitation, but he didn't wait for her to enter. Instead, he left the door wide open and trotted into the kitchen, leaving it to her whether or not to follow. So she did.

He opened the fridge in search of some beer, for the first time not caring how she felt about him drinking in front of her. He could use the Dutch courage if they were to have a heads-on again. As far as it concerned him, this would be the last time. He was too tired to keep doing this.

She didn't comment on it. She was the guest, or maybe the trespasser, whichever shoe fitted better at that point. But she didn't want to lurk around the kitchen table to have a conversation like this.

"Can we please sit down?"

Another shrug, followed by a vague gesture toward the sitting area.

"Sit. You know the way."

"Are you just gonna stand there?"

"Mind if I do?"

Boy, he wasn't going to be helpful, but she couldn't blame him. For a moment, she rested her head against the soft pillows of his couch, drinking in his scent that lingered there. A sharp stab of despair suddenly hit her and she choked back a cry. But he heard nonetheless. A bit of his carefully constructed nonchalance crumbled and he sat down next to her.

"Talk to me Mac."

She heaved a sigh, brown eyes looking up, silently pleading for some lenience. He nodded, his facial features softening as they always did around her.

"I owe you an apology, for what happened. For everything that happened."

"What, for walking out on me before hearing the answer to your question?"

It came out harsh and momentarily shook her for its intensity. He bit his lip. He hadn't meant it to come out so hard, but that question had hurt him. If she knew him at all, she would have known the answer. Hell, she would have known better than to ask. Maybe that's why her answer really managed to rattle his cage.

"Yes, that too. But more for asking the question in the first place."

He didn't know what to say, but apparently, he didn't have to. The first little step had obviously jolted her into a whirlpool of thoughts and all he had to do was sit back and let it unfold. Maybe that was the right choice. So he leaned back, watching her intently as she took the centre stage.

"Harm…I don't know where to start. I don't seem to know anything anymore. Except that I want it all. The career, the man, the shoes. But frankly, I never stopped to ask myself if I was entitled to have it all. And even if I am, I'm most definitely not entitled to make somebody, anybody sacrifice their own right to pursue it all in order to give me my dream. Especially not you."

She looked him in the eyes, both keen and scared to see how he was dealing with her revelation so far. He was still sitting motionless on the couch, but big blue eyes were intensely focused on her. And, at long last, an encouraging smile splayed across his lips. It prompted her into act two of her monologue.

"You've had to give up so much already. And you're still the best friend anybody could ever dream to have. Don't ask me how I came to this revelation, but I know I was a fool and an arrogant, selfish, conceded bitch when I asked you that question. Instead, I want to reverse it. Will you let me?"

His look changed into one of utter confusion, voiced a moment later.

"Mac…I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. Please, elaborate."

Momentarily biting back a laugh at his positively lawyer choice of words, she asked him the question bugging her all night.

"It means I'm tired Harm. Tired of us, of this dance, of hurting you, of you hurting me. Like I said, I want it all. But if I can't have it, I want you most of all. Nothing else matters if only I can have you. I'll be the one to give up, give in if that's what it takes. No more engagements to other men, no more silly games and questions, no more pushing. No more running."

She sat down next to him again, taking his hands in her own, pulling out her aching heart and laying it at his feet, his mercy.

I'm throwing in the towel, Harm. I'm yours if you want me. Whenever. Even if you want to wait. No matter how long you want to wait. I love you."

He didn't answer. Everything around her remained silent, still, mute. Absolutely nothing happened and she felt her heart sink. Resigning in her obvious fait, she stood, trembling, focusing on the door while she managed to take one step, then another.

She fought. She lost. But hey, two out of three wasn't that bad, was it? She still had the career and the shoes. She'd wanted it all and apparently wasn't entitled to have it. She'd have to make do.

Finally she reached the door, when his voice made her stop dead in her tracks.

"You're doing it again, Sarah."

She turned, unsure of what he meant.

"You're running again, not waiting to hear my answer."

She swallowed, hard, not daring to look in his eyes.

"I'm afraid of it Harm. Terrified."

At once, he was next to her. She always marveled at the speed and elegance of his big body. And of its surprising tenderness. Without warning he enveloped her in his arms. She stiffened, but soon enough her body melted into his, relishing in his warmth.

He let go of her enough to tilt her head, forcing her to look at him. She read the answer before he said it. A hopeful smile curled around her lips.

"I love you too, Sarah. So my answer is yes. To everything. It would have been my answer at that time, Mac. Yes, I'm ready to give up everything for you. Anything you could ask for. Renée is ancient history, don't you worry about her."

He wiped away a stray tear on her cheek, then silence her with a brush of his thumb against her lips. It made her shudder.

"But I agree with you. I want it all. I want you to have it all. But why can't we? Why can't we complete each other's life, instead of wanting anything in return? We asked the wrong question all along. It's not about what we are willing to sacrifice, to lose in order to have the other, it's what can we do and mean to each other, what we can build up, what we can give. If we swap evenly, nobody has to lose anything. My heart for yours, my life for yours. Two hearts between us, Mac. Two strong hearts at that. It's endlessly more than having it all. But it's what we deserve."

It was the longest, most beautiful closing argument she had ever heard. Whoever told him he wasn't good with words? Oh right, that would be her. She'd have to take it back. Later, when she was able to string a coherent sentence together. Right now, her lips had better things to do.

She carefully brushed them against his and he took. Took it all. She was more than willing to give up. But as her knees turned into jelly, she knew she hadn't given up anything. She finally had it all.

They both had.

THE END.

**AN**: To Virago500: Hope this makes you more happy! Better let me know! To others: Of course your thoughts are much appreciated too.


End file.
